Truth be told….

book of shadowsI’faith I heard through the grapevine that captainbarbossa had some choice words to say about my latest bit of storytelling. My apologies to you “Captain B(east)” . I confess, it was a completely coquettish way in which I was attempting to capture your attention. Truth be told, I do miss you. Now, if you were to assist that person who so graciously lends you the use of their comminication devices, they may be more inclined to let you out more often. I’ve heard the stories about your recent unruliness, and whilst I will sympathize with you, I cannot help but to reminde ye that manners are free, and pay off infinite dividends for both yourself – and to those of us who are longing to spend some quality time with ye.

And I am sorely missing, as the metaphor goes, all the creature comforts of your lap as of late. Yes, you are free to take that as ye will. 😉

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8 responses to “Truth be told….

  1. My lap is a more prominent holding than my own black heart, Fanny Fae, and that much yet belongs to ye. Though if you’d but warm the former region for a spell, I trust you’d feel the throb o’ me pulse more forcefully than ye could e’er hope to in the latter.

    • Forgive me for delaying for so long a response to you, my good Captain. Your words were not only a surprise, they left enough to my imagination that I got caught up in it. I beg your indulgence, Sir, for I know about your lap’s holdings and the considerable assets that it holds quite well. *wicked smile* I’d be most happy to warm your lap anad in so doing I can assure ye your black heart would be left with little choice but to follow. 😉

      • …I can assure ye your black heart would be left with little choice but to follow.

        Ye can assure me all ye like, but I’ll not hold faith with the theory until I’ve tested it out myself, and in closer quarters than these. Barbossa gives her a slow grin, then claps his hands invitingly on his knees.

        Have a seat, Fanny.

        • Ye can assure me all ye like, but I’ll not hold faith with the theory until I’ve tested it out myself, and in closer quarters than these. Barbossa gives her a slow grin, then claps his hands invitingly on his knees.

          Have a seat, Fanny.

          *shifting her skirts and taking a seat upon Captain Barbossa’s lap facing him and fondling the amulet at his neck that she gave to him years ago*

          Just so long as we have the time and you don’t plan on going anywhere for a little while – that is, for at least a few hours. *nefarious smile*

          What say ye? Do we have an accord? 😉

          • His grin acquires an edge of fondness as she settles her weight across his lap, though the expression could just as easily have been mocking, even merciless if her words had failed to please him. He watches her face as she toys with the amulet, chuckling quietly to himself; the sound rattles somewhere in the back of his throat, like a rasp grinding over a stone.

            “My accord with ye is implicit, as well ye know, and has stood long before this hour.” Barbossa leans back, reaching for Fanny’s waist and pulling her gently into this new angle; his hands slide down, over her skirts and under, where his long fingers walk up the curve of calf and thigh as casually as if he were not hard. “And speaking of hours, I plan on anchoring ye right here for at least a few.”

            • A slow sultry smile crosses Fanny Fae’s face as his hands edge over her thighs. Leaning forward she nips the curve of his neck gently with a soft growl, tasting the salty sweetness of his flesh.

              “Not so fast, Captain – ye owe me some answers to questions that I posed to ye long ago. And if ye aren’t of a mind to answer, I’ll simply be taking them out of your hide instead. One scar for each unanswered question. ” Fanny Fae chuckles softly against his skin, “But then again, I’faith, I’ve a feeling that ye might enjoy that too much and keep refusing to answer so that any punishment from my hand woulde end up being a reward!”

            • “You’re a sly thing, to remind me now of what ye are owed! Fortunately for us both, I remember at least one of your inquiries.”

              Would ye drink of the cup if ye knew that it meant that you consign that which you hold most dear to be placed in a box & ne’er really taste it?

              “I suppose you’re referring to that cup of life everlasting I’d asked ye about before. And my answer must be the same as yours, dear Fanny — just as ye suspected. I’d gladly scorn any cup that promised me as much, though the lesson was a hard-learned one, to be sure.” He smiles ruefully. “Would that I always had your magic about me, as it affords me an all-too-brief taste of that which the curse yet deadens my tongue to.”

              “Speaking of taste and tongues–” His expression grows less grim at the feel of her breath against his skin, and in the next moment he is chuckling once more. “That counts as one answer to one question, I believe. So what be my reward in your eyes, hm? A scar, or a kiss?”

            • “You’re a sly thing, to remind me now of what ye are owed! ”

              Giving Barbossa a slow smile and a slightly raised eyebrow, “Aye, and it is because I am a sly thing and that I dare to be so with you that intrigues you.”

              He smiles ruefully. “Would that I always had your magic about me, as it affords me an all-too-brief taste of that which the curse yet deadens my tongue to.”

              “Speaking of taste and tongues–” His expression grows less grim at the feel of her breath against his skin, and in the next moment he is chuckling once more. “That counts as one answer to one question, I believe. So what be my reward in your eyes, hm? A scar, or a kiss?”

              Fanny strokes Barbossa’s cheek and kisses the edge of his mouth, ” You have earned both. A kiss for you….and another scar upon my heart. Damn ye to hell, Captain Barbossa.” Fanny wraps her arms tighter around Barbossa and reaches up to Captain Barbossa’s hat, gingerly plucking it from his head, replacing it with her fingers that plunder through his hair, “And damn me, too.”

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